Home Is Where The Heart Is
by Marvelicious
Summary: Natalia and James are Russian sleeper agents pretending to be a wholesome, happily married American family (who occasionally still do field work, for no discernible reason). Falling in love was never part of the job. Bucky/Natasha PWP.


_I've never seen 'The Americans', but this is meant to follow the same basic premise._

_Also this is technically MCU, but I took quite a bit from comic characterization as well, especially from Brubaker's Winter Soldier run._

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"You know," James teases her, giving the thread a little tug to pull it tight. It almost doesn't even hurt anymore, but Natalia takes another long sip, relishing the burn of good Russian vodka searing its way down her throat. She doesn't fight back the reactionary shudder, and James grabs her arm to hold her still, "when they told me I was marrying the Black Widow, I was worried for _my_ life."

She smirks and lowers the bottle to look at him. He's focused entirely on stitching her up, brow knitted together and tongue just peeking out between his lips. It's more endearing than she'd like to admit, something Natalia never expected to notice when she was given this assignment. "Aww," She teases him right back, possibly a bit tipsy at this point, but always willing to use it to her advantage, "you worry about me?"

"I'd hate to lose such a cushy gig," He says, "And faking a car crash would be a goddamn hassle." For an assassin, he's a terrible liar. James can barely keep a straight face, the corners of his mouth quirking up on every word before smoothing back into impassivity like he's barely even trying not to smile right back at her. He pokes her a little harder with the needle than really necessary on the next stitch.

"You're just jealous that your demure housewife gets more assignments than you do." She fakes innocent and flutters her eyelashes at James - it has the desired effect, and he chuckles, warm and low. The sound goes straight to her gut, amplifying the fuzzy liquored feeling.

"My demure housewife is sure going to have a lot of bruises to explain at the garden party tomorrow." He counters, brushing his thumb over a grouping of them on her wrist. It's roughly the size and shape of a man's fingers, and Natalia knows James will have noticed that even if he won't question her.

"Oh dear!" She giggles, as if noticing the bruises for the first time herself, slipping into her cover identity as easily as she slips into her favorite dress. Natalia leans in closer to him, eyes wide and cheeks pink and stage-whispers conspiratorially, "Don't tell anyone yet - it's still so early - but the hubby and I are trying to get pregnant. We must have gotten a bit carried away." His pupils widen, and Natalia watches him swallow quickly before he finishes tying off his handiwork.

She knows James buys into her cover more than he probably should - good for the mission, but surely not as good for him - and Natalia doesn't feel guilty about it, but she does hope it's not going to bite him in the ass someday. "Oh dear," He mutters, heavy on the sarcasm, but he's smirking as he packs away the first aid kit and steals the vodka from her. "Guess I get to finish the bottle then. Don't want you drinking with a baby on the way."

He ducks out of range just before she can smack him, taking the vodka with him and raising it to his lips even as he's dancing out of her way, much more graceful than any man his size has a right to be. Natalia leaps at him from the edge of the bed and catches James around the neck, cool droplets hitting her skin and evaporating just as fast when he spills his drink. "So clumsy," She chastises him, snatching the bottle back.

He lets her have it - mostly. A second later, his arms are wrapping around her thighs, one much cooler than the other against her bare skin, and Natalia finds herself being slung over his shoulder unceremoniously. "Put me down," She protests, but doesn't mean it in the slightest.

"Put you down?" James checks, and Natalia shoves her thumb over the neck of the bottle with a sneaking suspicion.

"Don't you do it." She gets a fist in his hair, running her nails up the back of his neck and twisting them in tight. See him throw her off now. He laughs and dumps her back onto the bed, but she refuses to let go and drags him down with her, yanking on his too-short hair.

James ends up sprawled on top of her, nose pressed just below her belly button. A hot little huff of breath against her stomach, and Natalia has to make her fingers remember to unclench. She's not used to having her body betray her, but sometimes when it's just her and James like this… He doesn't say anything for a long moment, but he doesn't move either. And then he presses a slow, deliberate kiss into her skin.

It's completely chaste, more so than the dozens of kisses they've shared for other people's benefit, but it sets something fluttering dangerously in Natalia's chest. This isn't for anyone else; this is just them, and she can't help wondering if James means anything by it, or if he's just caught up in the moment, in their covers - "You're overthinking." He kisses her again, lips slightly parted this time and Natalia can feel the heat of his mouth on her for a long, lingering moment.

When he looks up, Natalia can read the heat in his eyes. She's used to men desiring her and her first instinct is to encourage it, but she doesn't. She props herself up on her elbows and waits for him to tell her what he wants, because James is the honest one between them. A rather nebulous distinction, but an important one nevertheless.

He doesn't disappoint. "I'm glad you made it home."

"Did you really doubt me?" She half-teases, but Natalia doesn't break eye contact with him even when she twists to set the vodka away on the bedside table. Her whole body feels hot under his gaze, and whatever this is, it's intense in a way she's not used to.

James leans forward, close enough that Natalia could kiss him in a heartbeat if she was so inclined. "No. But I wasn't lying when I said I worried."

Gods help her, Natalia wants him. She lifts a hand to his shoulder, pushes back the arm of his tee shirt and seeks out the mechanism to peel back the synthetic skin. James lifts an eyebrow, but his fingers curl around hers, directing them. "No illusions." She tells him by way of explanation, crumpling the cybernetic skin in her fist and finally tossing it aside, but it means more than that even as she says it. He prefers the metal, no matter how important it is to keep it hidden, and Natalia doesn't think he's realized she knows.

"I can do that." He reaches out to turn the light off, leaving the room almost entirely dark. There's a dim glow from the streetlights outside and his metal arm gleams softly, but that's it. "Can you?"

Already his voice carries a more familiar accent - Brooklyn giving way to Moscow - and that feels more like home than this place with their white picket fence and too-friendly neighbors has in years. Natalia puts a hand on his chest and pretends to consider it for a moment. "Just this once," she promises.

"Good." He kisses her without further warning, all tongue and teeth already, and it doesn't take an operative to realize that James is seeking assurance in her body, spurred on by her close call earlier. But he's gentle enough around the stitches dotting her ribcage, and she wouldn't mind even if he wasn't.

James manhandles her with his metal arm, no longer pretending to be right-handed, pulling her flush against him. Natalia doesn't even have to think, reaching up to twist her arms around his neck and lifting her hips against his. This is as familiar to her as breathing. He presses kiss after kiss to her neck, her collarbone, her chest, and then he's dipping lower, working his way down her body.

Her hands slip from his shoulders when James reaches her pelvis, warm breath against her naked skin. "How do you like it?" He's fully clothed still, and his cool mechanical fingers drift against the inside of her thighs, just south of where Natalia is already aching for him. She should feel exposed, but she doesn't.

"I just want you," She breathes, reaching to run her fingers back through his hair, and realizes her mistake as soon as the words leave her.

It feels like James is smiling when he presses his face to the inside of her thigh, because for once he's not the first to say what he means. She can feel him breathe in deep, the air stirring - is he teasing her? "I just so happen to feel the same." And then his tongue is flicking out against her labia before she can consider that - smooth, even strokes that get shorter and quicker as he draws nearer to her clit.

It's not long at all until she's got her thighs clamped around his head, hips rocking in time with his mouth. Everything is so overly sensitized, flushed and swollen from a mix of his stubble and her desire and - "oh," she gasps, "ohhh, there."

James obeys, his tongue flicking back and forth over her clit steadily. The heat is building in the pit of her stomach, release so close Natalia can practically taste it. She hasn't given herself over to sensation like this in what feels like forever - shuts it down and fakes everything when she's on a mission, because the Black Widow can't be vulnerable, but now - here with James -

She _can_. And that sends her flying past the point of no return, biting down on her own fist to keep from screaming as Natalia comes harder than she thinks she ever has before.

As soon as the aftershocks leave her - certainly not helped along by the occasional press of James' lips and tongue - Natalia goes limp. Her whole body feels tingly and warm and boneless. She can feel James lift his head, looking up at her from between her thighs, but she doesn't move to meet his gaze for a long moment.

"You're beautiful, Natalia."

By the tone of his voice, oddly raw and tender, she can't help but think he means it to say even more. It's too dark to read his expression, but she can see the dull shine of wetness smeared across his face, and no matter how satisfied she thought she was a second ago, Natalia wants him all the more now.

"Husband of the year," She teases, then leans forward to grab a fistfull of James' shirt and pull him back up the bed.

"That's my job." James doesn't protest when she manhandles him, flipping the two of them over. He's being cautious because of the stitches, or she thinks he would have wrestled her for it, but either way, Natalia gets what she wants so she's certainly not going to complain.

James' cock is a hard line against the inside of her thigh, springing up eagerly when she tears his shorts off of him. To his credit, he gets with the program instantly, grabbing her by the hips and tugging her down the second she flings a leg over his waist. The head of his cock rubs against her overly sensitive clit, and Natalia just grinds down on him for a long moment, his hips rising and falling to meet hers until they're both gasping.

"Please," he begs her, "Gods, Natalia, more."

She thinks about teasing him, her pussy clenching eagerly with just the thought of making him really beg for it, but Natalia wants this as much as he does. She slips a hand between them to line him up, and when his cock finally slides into her - "Oh, James," It feels so good to be filled up, the snap of his hips bouncing her up and down and forcing his cock deeper on every thrust, impossibly strong hands vice-tight over her hips lifting her up and tugging her back down like it's nothing at all. She rolls her hips, feels his fingertips dig into the hollows of her hipbones with the motion.

Natalia's body is a weapon, same as his, but she's been trained in this. She knows how to make it good for a man - the best he's ever had - and she's only partially showing off when she clenches up tight around him, releases and does it again, over and over until James is swearing, gripping her hips even tighter. "Fuck, Natalia."

She allows herself to laugh at him, lifting her hips faster and forcing him to catch up. It feels like she's flying, so caught up in his embrace and their sex, and she's never genuinely enjoyed a man like this before now.

James curls up from the bed and catches her around the waist, pressing their bodies together tightly. It doesn't give her the same range of movement, but Natalia is already close to cumming again and she doesn't care in the slightest. She dips her head and kisses him recklessly.

His metal hand sweeps across her back, sending shivers down her spine with the sudden cold. "Don't hold back," James tells her, the rock of his hips less steady than before. He's holding her tight - tighter than she's ever been held - and anyone else who found themselves in the Winter Soldier's grip like this has never lived to tell the tale, but she trusts him. As much as anyone in her position ever could, and probably much more than she should.

"James," Natalia sighs his name as she cums - less intense this time, but so good all the same - and she can feel him follow her over the edge not even a second later.

"You know," He doesn't let go, still holding her tight as he lies back against the bed, pulling Natalia down onto his chest. He's still breathing heavy, her sweat, and probably blood, soaking through his tee shirt, but James is almost laughing when he kisses her again and announces, "If we weren't already married, I'd be tempted to do something stupid like propose."

Natalia just smiles down at him.

She might have even said yes.


End file.
